Surely the end times are nigh, as I, celebrated internet party-pooper, have actually gone into the instagramming business. But, speaking of business, that’s the only reason for my great moral compromise. It seems (at least to Mary, who convinced me to create the account) small businesses cannot exist without a broad spectrum of social media outlets (that phrase, to me, sounds like a psychology experiment in which subjects are made to shop at store made of clay, all while ignoring the ever growing numbers of malevolent Gumby like doppelgangers following them).
The small business in question is Agricultural Alchemy, the mercenary botanical branch of Thistlehammer Transmutational’s one man corporation. The benefits are great, in fact I’m the president,CEO, and chief fat cat. Sadly, I’m also the janitor and sole stock holder.
I don’t really mind. I’ve always found it easier to go it alone than to have to compromise for a group consensus. I”m a bit like Mad Max in Fury Road, just doing my own thing in an apocalyptic wasteland, searching for lands to plant my precious seeds.
At this time of the year it’s more cuttings than seeds.
Tonight we’ve got a frost warning for the whole of the Susquehanna valley (that is, the literal valley formed by the Blue Mountains and the Susquehanna river, a region defined by micro-climate and geography rather than the Census Bureau). Such marks the beginning of fall in earnest, and also the additional chores of taking in the majority of my plants each night. I learned my lesson from last year with my experiment, which was truly just a code name for laziness, in which I left nearly all of my plants out from summer tot he next spring. I had hoped some sort of unbreakable juggernaut of a spider plant would emerge, but all I got was a great deal of empty pots and reusable soil. It’d taken until august for me to repopulate my porch to the level of verdancy it had managed the previous year. I think by now I’ve surpassed that apparently prodigal year, but one does tend to think of how well forested he’d be had he not a year ago succumbed to a depressed laziness.
My motivation was not entirely apathetic lethargy. I have a great fondness for starting from very little and ending with much. My favorite point in strategy games is not the final points when one is a midst achieving victory, but rather the beginning of the second third, once the bases are built and the establishment assured, when one sets to growing his forces. As a child I used to like using bar soap with a barely wetted towel, building lather that seemed as if it wouldn’t froth into something resembling a frog’s mating habits. I am the same way with fires (save for forge fires, which don’t behave the way free ones do).
Plants constantly offer me the opportunity to fulfill this neurotic affinity. I am forever picking up plants from the discount sections, beleaguered, mostly dead little things, and then bringing them back into full form. Most of the succulents I have now come directly from, or through descent, discarded leaves or stems found, unwanted, on the floors and tables of plant shops.
I’m really looking forward to the next few weeks of intense growing. I am excited to share the vegetation of my success with my fellow Harrisburgians at the HBGFlea and am happy to be spreading plants, ones that would not have existed without me, throughout the area.
In the next few days I’ll explain in greater detail the nitty grits and spirit of Agricultural Alchemy, for now I merely wished to share my excitement over its potential.